"Is this the medicinal herb you mentioned? It's beautiful!"
Su Xiaochi squatted by the river, glancing at the flower to her left and right, her eyes unable to hide her amazement.
The flower in Tang Shu's hands was entirely snow-white, with only six or seven petals visible, but the veins were clearly discernible—even from a distance, one could feel the coolness it emitted.
This flower was one glance away from being recognized as extraordinary.
Having lived for so many years and due to her unique job, Su Xiaochi had seen her share of medicinal herbs, but never such a miraculous flower.
She recalled their conversation at the Oxygen-supply Hotel, and an idea crossed her mind.
"Sister Tang, is this one of those herbs that have been lost to history that you mentioned?"
Tang Shu's eyes shone brighter than before, and her usually expressionless face now wore hints of joy that added an allure to her appearance.
